Collateral Damage
by VonGikkingen
Summary: Few of Killmonger's criminal contacts outlived their usefulness to him. One of the rare exceptions had secrets he never suspected.
1. Collateral Damage

"So, listen... I'm gonna have to cancel. I know I promised I'll meet with the new guy but something came up and…"

"Something came up," said Wong in a tone that told me I better explain myself.

"I have to go to radio silence for the afternoon. I have some… collateral damage to deal with."

"What's that supposed to..."

"I'll be digging graves, Wong," I snapped. "You just couldn't let me keep it vague…" I added, sounding more exhausted than anything else. That was the majority of what I was feeling. Exhaustion. With some anger on the side. "Fucking Erik…"

"What was that…?" came Wong's voice - not from the phone but from somewhere behind the nearest plane. I sighed.

"Over here," I called to help him navigate his way to me.

"What...?" he started on reaching me.

"Corpses, obviously. I don't dig graves just for training purposes. I usually have reasons. Ones that look like _that_ ," I said, pointing at the two bodies at my feet. "And before you go there, no, I didn't kill them."

"Who did?" he asked, having no trouble taking my word for it. That was adorable, considering he saw me in action. The fact that he believed me when I claimed that though otherdimensional monsters were fair game I drew a line at killing people made me think that maybe, just maybe, I may have been a little dramatic when I decided to cut off all contact with my former colleagues.

"Funny story. So there's this Wakandan prince on a revenge quest... _And_ he took Klaue with him. Unless you stumbled over him on your way here…?" I said hopefully. Wong's impassive expression told me that was not the case. "Fuck. He was the only reason I actually bothered coming here."

"A friend of yours?" asked the sorcerer, trying to establish whether condolences were in order.

"Kinda. Remember how I got reprimanded over bringing guns to magic fights…? You must have wondered where they came from."

"He was your weapons dealer?"

" _And_ a friend, so check the attitude. We all have to pay the rent somehow," I said in Klaue's defense. "And unlike you people, he actually had my back. When he felt like it," I added, since even as I felt fairly depressed by this new development I couldn't deny Klaue was... complicated.

"I'll tell the Sorcerer Supreme you have a personal situation you need to deal with first."

"You do that. But hey, if he still has his mind set on meeting me – whatever that's supposed to achieve – tell him to bring a shovel. I can dig and talk at the same time and I wouldn't mind the company. It's tedious work, you know," I smirked as he summoned a portal to get himself out of this crime scene and back to the safety of the Sanctum.

I was joking. I underestimated Wong's ability to understand the concept. Which is why about five minutes after moving the bodies to my favorite depopulated patch of Uzbekistan perfect for this kind of thing I found there was a shadow falling over me.

"Is that a fucking cape?" I asked the man as he closed the portal he came through. "No, scratch that, of course it is. More importantly - is _that_ an Infinity Stone…?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"I'd love one of those. Especially today. I fucked up…" I said, returning to the work at hand as he stood over me, all dramatic and dignified. "I mean, sure, it can be argued that there's nothing I could have done. You don't tell people of the most technologically advanced nation on Earth what to do. Especially not when you're this white... Oh, I'm gonna have fun living under Killmonger's hegemony," I added under my breath.

"I have very little idea what you're talking about," said the new Sorcerer Supreme. I shrugged.

"Let's put it this way - while you were busy sorting out the other dimensions I broke this one," I said, not meeting his eyes. "There shall be some political upheaval in not too distant future. And I could have stopped it."

"Perhaps it would be best if you begun at the beginning," he suggested.

"Alright. But you're not going to like this," I sighed, and started bringing him up to date. It was surprisingly fun, because the more I spoke the more confused he became by the fact I was once a member of the same organization he now led. Everything from my casual association with criminals to how often I used the term _muggle_ was telling him that I simply couldn't be what I seemed. I was just about to tell him about how my bad feeling about Erik crystallized into an actual premonition - or whatever you call a trippy dream full of hungry looking panthers - when it happened.

"Can you... smell... smoke?"

I collapsed to my knees in a fit of coughing before he could answer me. A wave of sensory information flooded me in a quick succession - smell of flowers that only bloom in the dark and weight of earth covering me and heat and... smoke finding its way into my lungs... "Oh, what the fuck did you do now...?" I said as I forced my way back into this moment, away from the events taking place thousands of miles away.

"That..."

"...just happened," I said, looking up at the Sorcerer Supreme, daring him to help me downplay it. Didn't quite work. It's hard to hold someone's gaze when you feel like coughing your lungs out.

"Are you well enough to...?"

"I'm not going to the Sanctum," I replied immediately, seeing where this was going. "I have graves to dig. They've made their point, they're going to leave me alone for a while now. To give me time to think about what I've done..."

"They?"

He was not liking the sound of it, I could tell. "The spectral panthers. I think they're dead kings or something... And apparently they blame me for not interfering in their family business which... pretty hard to credit, but that's what it felt like. Anger. Blame. Kind of _look what you let happen_ vision," I said, still breathing heavily. "He burns a few flowers and they go mental..."

"Has this happened before?" asked the sorcerer, still frowning.

"This exact thing? No. But I think they might be more touchy about the stuff he does in Wakanda so... They'll just be getting worse," I said, and even as I spoke the words I realized I was right about that. "So that's me not sleeping for as long as I can. No way I'm taking any trips to the spectacular lightshow savanna when they're in this kind of mood."

"Why would they expect you to help them?"

"I know, right? There's no one less likely to have Wakandan ancestors," I said shaking my head. "My best guess? Convenience. I was around and I'm unlikely to freak out over a few ghosts because I've been punching elder gods in the face before Erik even got into creepy body art and... Anyway. They miscalculated. Being a huge fan of self-preservation I just stayed out of his plans. I didn't want to be the next scar. And now it's out of my hands," I said, looking down at them. There was something wrong with how little the sight of them blackened by grave dirt upset me. I shouldn't have been this resigned to this, disposing of someone else's victims because he didn't even have the decency to do that much for them. But then, death was a numbers game to him. "Fucking Erik," I said under my breath.

"I want you to come to the Sanctum when you're finished here," said the sorcerer, clearly not liking how quickly I transitioned from being severely haunted to being back to business as usual.

"I imagine you do. But, you know... You can't tell me what to do, you're not my real dad..." I said shrugging off that particular suggestion.

"It'd be for your protection."

"That's what that's for," I said with an offhand gesture in the direction of the weapon lying on top of my jacket a few steps away.

"Ghosts are notoriously bulletproof."

That made me freeze mid-motion and do a double take of the man. "You know, Wong told me you have a sense of humor. I didn't believe him, because how could he tell...? He's... Wong," I said with a smile.

"Would you like to know what he told me about you...? I'll be in the Sanctum in New York, whenever you feel like having that conversation..." he said before I could reply.

I just nodded to him to acknowledge I heard and went right back to what I was doing. Getting on with my life, pretending everything's going to be alright even if this was one of the days when I had really hard time forcing that kind of optimism. Oh well - I could always move into the mirror dimension permanently. That was the ultimate backup plan for if the things didn't work out in this one. And this really felt like the time to abandon ship. Time to... to...

"You know, it's only matter of time before that gets you killed."

I blinked as this moment followed the last one with a dreamlike lack of transition. I was in the London safehouse... no... _back_ in the London safehouse. Back before everything that could have gone wrong went wrong.

"Meaning?" said Klaue sitting across the table from me.

"Don't you have a museum to rob...?"

"That's not until tomorrow," he said dismissively, going back to watching anime on his phone. Missing the way I rolled my eyes. His loss. It was rather epic. "Why? Do you have something you'd rather be doing? Like glaring at that building like you're trying to forcechoke it...?"

That almost made me drop the weapon I was cleaning. "Klaue...? Did you have me followed...?"

"Of course I did. That's what happens when you don't tell me where you're going when we're at such a crucial junction."

"I did tell you," I reminded.

"Right. You said you were headed for the aquarium," he said, pausing meaningfully, "to look at some cuttlefish."

"And I was. I got distracted. That happens. These new meds I'm taking..."

He just gave me a look that made me cut it off right there. I was _not_ on anti-psychotic medication and we both knew it. Same as we knew he was only going to let me hang around and freeload if I didn't lie to him. I sighed. "Just out of curiosity - who did you send to shadow me? Because I didn't see anyone and I'm usually good at noticing suspicious types."

"Erik."

"He's good," I said grudgingly. "So I guess that's why we're keeping him around..."

"Want to translate that subtext for me...?"

"I have a bad feeling about him. And I can tell that you don't and that's making it worse."

"I'm sure that's just your new meds talking," he said dismissively.

I wanted to add something. I wanted to tell him about the dreams, the luminous sky, the hungry eyes full of warnings watching me from the shadows under the trees. I wanted to... _but I didn't_.

I woke up. Cold. Shivering.

It took me a second to shake off the disorientation and remember where I was. The sky was starlit, telling me I must have spent at least a few hours sleeping. In a shallow grave. Just wonderful.

"Thanks for that," I said, not entirely sure for who I was speaking to. "I know this is my fault, by the way. _But_ if you wanted me to do something about this, you should have cut out the cryptic symbolism and just speak up. I'm not good with subtlety. It wouldn't kill you to go _so we need you to put a bullet between his eyes before he gets the chance to claim the throne_ , you know," I said, still lying on my back on the cold earth. Feeling rather comfy, all things considered. I was content to just stay there, especially when the panther appeared, peering down at me, not solid enough to obstruct my view of the stars, yet very much here. It was in the eyes, mostly. They could see into my soul - I could tell by the disapproving expression on its face.

"Hey there, Bagheera," I said, smiling tiredly.

It smiled back at me, all teeth.

"Look, I'm sorry about your magic flowers. But come on, they're indigenous, there must be a few still growing in the wild. I'll help you look," I offered. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

The dark shape didn't reply. Not that I expected it to. "I really am, you know. Sorry," I said, closing my eyes. Hoping the dark shape would be gone when I next opened them. No such luck...

"Oh... I see," I said, sitting up. It was right there in those mirror-reflective eyes. That's why they came here, almost corporeal and somewhat demure for a cat that big. "We're trading apologies. You fucked up too."

The dark shape nodded almost imperceptibly.

I just smiled, letting them know that the apology was accepted for what it was worth and started feeling about for my shovel. Then I got to my feet and went right back to it, as though I just didn't take an unscheduled nap.

I wasn't aware when the embodiment of Wakandan spirits disappeared into the night. The air still carried the faint smell of night-blooming flowers when I finally finished, near dawn. I didn't bother saying anything over the graves. I've already done plenty just by making sure there were graves. It was only a gesture and it meant nothing to the dead. This was for me. An acknowledgement. Something to think of the next time I found myself wondering whether to interfere. My refusal to get involved had a deadcount too...

"Ah... We've been expecting you," was all Wong said when I stepped through the portal, leaving muddy footprints all over the place.

"Of course you were."


	2. Then

So it's not a good idea to go "Aren't you forgetting something?" at someone who constantly grins – not when it's four in the morning and he's clearly trying to get you out the door with the minimum of drama. Because assumptions will be made…

And right on cue the new guy – the one they called Killmonger for reasons I chose not to investigate – took out his valet and gave me a quick assessing look.

"Every goddamn time," I said under my breath as Klaue chuckled, waiting for the usual punchline. "I'm here to do two things – make Star Wars references and get mistaken for an escort. And may the force be with you. You'll need it. You just told your boss, who happens to be a violent sociopath, that you think he has to pay for it."

That rendered everyone momentarily speechless. I had a talent for saying things like that. I suspected that was most of the reason why Klaue even put up with me, showing up at odd hours with the oddest requests.

"You're… not…?" started Killmoger, giving me another long look, just in case he missed something the first time.

"She's a client," explained Klaue. Making no secret of how much fun he was having right now.

"She most certainly is. And shall remain one because where else am I gonna find this kind of professional behavior?" I said with a tolerant smile. "Now, seriously, are you not giving me even an estimate for when will my order be ready?" I said, just stopping short of spelling out for him how badly I needed to sorcerer-proof my place with Mordo still being at large and on a crusade.

"No," replied Klaue simply.

"Well, I hope you're ready for what that means," I said, trying one last time. "I'll be back."

"You do know that's not actually a threat," said Klaue opening the door for me.

"You know, I'll remind you you said that," I said trying to make it sound ominous and missing the mark quite badly. Maybe he was right. Maybe it just wasn't much of a threat. "Bye guys," I said, stepping over the threshold of the safehouse. With a cheerful wave, too. Several of the friendly neighborhood sociopaths returned my wave, making me laugh as I got on my way.

 _That_ was less than twenty-four hours ago. There have been some developments since then…

"So… Do you live here now…?"

I looked up from my coffee to find the man who just the other night mistook me for an escort. Then looked down to fully appreciate the fact I was wearing pyjamas so that was actually a very appropriate question.

"Yes I do. Wonder how that happened," I added with a smirk.

"You just showed up yesterday, with a bag, and announced _I live here now_ ," said Klaue, barging in, stealing my coffee and leaving the room before I could react in any way. I stared after him, eyes narrowed and wondering if I wanted to follow that with a comment. Probably not. He was in one of his moods. I was lucky enough he didn't question me too hard about the reason I suddenly needed the safety in numbers this place provided.

I sighed, got up, found another mug and poured myself some more coffee. It actually startled me to find that Killmonger was still in the room. He looked like he had more to say, too. I took a long sip to fortify myself for what was coming. "Some of my best friends are escorts," I said, seemingly apropos of nothing, seeing he was still just standing there, choosing his words. "So before you start apologizing – I don't actually consider it an insult."

At that he just nodded, looking grateful that I let him off the hook. The truth was I just wasn't up to having that conversation – or any, really.

I returned to the table where waited my worn paperback. Time to go back to pretending this was just like any other morning. Which was surprisingly easy, considering I was in a house full of incredibly dangerous and unstable people. I should probably start questioning how I made my life decisions one of these days…

"What do you actually do then?" he said after a second.

"Don't answer personal questions. Like a pro, too," I said, not even looking up from the page. That finally convinced him he wanted to leave me to focus on not being a morning person.

I watched him go through the steam rising from my cup. And before I could think twice about it, before I could do anything to stop the words leaving my lips…

" _I have a bad feeling about this_."

"You have a bad feeling about _everything_."

"Huh?" I said, startled to have the words repeated back at me.

"What is it now?" said Klaue, sitting down opposite me. I automatically tightened my grip on my mug in case he felt inclined to steal this one too.

"Where did you find that guy...?"

"None of your business," he replied, not unexpectedly. I nodded to myself.

"You should have his midichlorian counts checked," I said, keeping my expression serious. Which wasn't that hard. This _felt_ serious, even though I couldn't begin to imagine why. "In case he's a..."

"I swear, if you say _phantom menace_ you can start looking for a new place to lay low."

"Don't say I didn't warn you..." I said, shrugging. Because my bad feeling didn't seem to be going away.

"Go sit by the window," he said, seemingly out of nowhere, startling me from my reading a few pages later. He might have left the room and come back while I wasn't paying attention. But what he was doing now was watching me with an expression I didn't like. At all.

"What? Why?"

"To give the impression there's nothing suspicious going on in here. The rest of us can't quite pull off that _nothing to see here_ look, not the way you can. So take your Heinlein and go read it by the window," he said in a tone I knew better than to argue with.

"You're the boss," I sighed as I did as I was told.

Normally I wouldn't put up with being ordered around like this, but it made very little difference. I did take my Heinlein and headed for the uncomfortable chair by the window, perfectly content to spend next few hours convincing any and every random pedestrian that might look too closely in our direction that this is the kind of house where people read big books in the early mornings, rather than the wretched hive of scum and villainy it actually was. It was preferable to having a robbery to plan as far as I was concerned.

"Shouldn't someone relieve her?" I heard what felt like a short while after. "She hasn't moved for five hours."

"Do you think _you_ can pull off looking that harmless? Be my guest."

"Can you two shut up? Trying to read here," I snapped. I would have thrown something but the only thing I was armed with I didn't feel like parting with.

"Now does that sound like someone who needs a break?" said Klaue. I could tell he just grinned just by the tone of his voice. "You'll say something when you get really dehydrated, won't you?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether or not I'm at a good part. Now seriously - take your muggle conversation out of here," I said before I remembered myself.

"Our _what_?" said Killmonger giving me a weird look. Klaue was already laughing, knowing what was coming. This he found even funnier than people making all the wrong assumptions whenever I chose to do my negotiating at odd hours.

"I have magic powers. Which I'll use unless you leave. _Now_. Seriously, Erik. Fuck off."

It wasn't until an hour later that it came to me he never told me his name. Thankfully he assumed someone else did, saving me the effort of coming with a logical explanation for that. Something told me he was _the_ person I didn't want finding out about my full skillset.


	3. Now

I couldn't have slept long. My hair was still wet from the shower and… I made a soft, unhappy noise, opening my eyes to see my fingers were blackened with earth once more. "What the…" I whispered, picking up on the smell in the air. Feeling the pieces slide into place to form a very unpleasant picture.

To think I assumed they'll just leave me alone…

There was more evidence of my sleepwalking than just the dirt on my hands and the tiny pearls of moisture caught in my hair. There was the plant. The plant giving off soft, purple illumination I must have taken from its native ground and placed in a pot, all while asleep – all while being influenced, if not outright possessed, by someone else's ghosts. I groaned and closed my eyes again, hoping that might somehow make it go away.

"What did I ever do to..." I started. But that was like daring my brain to supply me with seemingly endless stream of memories showing me in the worst possible light. What did I do to deserve this? Everything. I took wrong turns like I was doing it on a dare and now karma came for me and it had black fur and eyes full of ghosts.

I forced myself to open my eyes again, looking at that softly glowing plant. No way they thought me worthy of possessing the power it could have given me. This wasn't for me.

"So... what do I do now? Does Wakanda have an embassy in New York?" I said, looking to shadows for answers and not finding that familiar, feline shape. "I'm not keeping it. Forget that. That's too much responsibility."

But the answer simply wasn't coming. Of course not. I forced myself to get from under the blanket, not surprised that my bare feet were just as dirty as my hands were. Well, that at least gave me something to do while I waited for the ghosts to manifest. Because I didn't doubt they did this to me. I had no reason to sleepwalk myself to Wakanda and search the jungle for clearly somewhat radioactive flora. This was them messing with me and probably being in the right too, given how useless I was in preventing the Killmonger situation. That was very much on me.

"Seriously, though," I said a few moments later, still very much talking to myself as I aggressively scrubbed my hands clean. "You have five minutes to tell me what am I supposed to do. Then I'm dumping all this mess on Strange. It's his house, that technically makes it his problem..."

I looked up to meet my own eyes in the mirror. I wouldn't be surprised to find I had bits of vegetation stuck in my hair - but what I actually found there freaked me the hell out.

I spun around to face the person whose pale, astral form I glimpsed in the reflection. "What the fuck, _Erik,_ " I said involuntarily, pressing a hand against my startled heart.

He just smiled. I did _not_ like what it did for his face.

"Are you dead?" I asked after taking a second to calm down.

"Dying," he said, almost casually. "I don't think it's gonna take."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"T'Challa," he said, his ghostly smile giving way to distaste.

"I know you think you're answering my question but you're really not," I said, seeing he wasn't going to add anything to help me understand.

"I told him to let me die. But there was something in his eyes... Made me think he just might choose to do whatever the hell he thinks is the right thing."

I didn't answer. I didn't know how to. I didn't doubt what he just told me, far from it. I had a bad feeling, once again, a coldness rising in me as I thought of the way he put it. _I don't think it's gonna take_. No. I didn't think it was gonna take either.

I really hoped I was wrong for once.

"Is this the house? The house you would go watch from the other side of the street, never daring to cross it. That _you can never go home again_ look in your eyes," he said with another ghostly smile. All teeth, like the panther haunting me. A smile of a beast.

"You went home. How did that work out for you...?"

"I'll live."

"I really hope you're wrong about that..." I whispered.

But he never heard me say those words. He was gone by the time I spoke. I had just the faintest impression of... of rays of setting sun on my skin and blood trickling down my chest and... a terrible tiredness.

I stayed still for the longest time, not wanting to walk back into the bedroom where the panther waited, mournful eyes looking at the one solitary flower.

I didn't want to go there and face them in their singular form because I knew that even after this I won't be able to blame them. Everything I did I did in their shadow. That's what made the path to me so clear. That's what made me so easy for him to find. All he had to do was to follow the paw prints. They left me with no course of action, only dirt under my fingernails and pain in my chest. And a ghost to face. And I wasn't angry. I wasn't. Much like Erik I was just incredibly tired...

But time passed and I did walk back to the bedroom, to pick up the pot with that single, fragile flower in it. To face the phantom that wanted me to have it. And once I did that, well... My next course of action became clear.

"I can't stay here. It'd be unfair to you. You didn't sign up for this level of weird. I mean, honestly - you can't ask of someone to put up with spectral panthers. That's just crossing the line," I said without a warning when I located Wong in the maze of the house. And seeing he was about to protest, ask questions or worse, both, I chose to bypass all that by putting the plant down and giving him a quick hug. A gesture that surprised me far more than it did him - and that was saying something, considering that when I stepped back he looked plenty surprised. Shocked even.

"But..."

"It's fine. I have someone to have my back when you guys are too busy sorting out the other dimensions..."I said quickly, letting him know there really was no need for followup questions.

I didn't think I sold him, but I could summon a portal a lot quicker than he could formulate a question. Even an obvious one like _what is that and why is it glowing like it's gonna give us all radiation based superpowers?  
_

I didn't doubt I could expect a call in not too distant future, but for now I just put the pot in a shadowy corner and looked around, smiling to myself. I missed this place - even though I fled it not that long ago in favor of spending way too much time around men that were way into weapons. The smell of too many paperbacks greeted me. The sweet scent of fire hazard and old sci-fi - that special blend of rocket fuel and red sand and dreams. I was _home_.

And I wasn't alone.

And I wouldn't be alone the next time someone a little too intense would wait for me in the shadows. I had allies now and they walked noiselessly, on soft paws.


End file.
